


Double Yellow

by Apple_Queen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Brienne knows slightly more but still pretty much nothing, F/M, Jaime Lannister knows nothing (and needs to grow a backbone), Jaime x Brienne Week 2020, Shae is a sex therapist, They know a lot, Tyrion is a trainee psychiatrist, parking tickets galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26694319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Queen/pseuds/Apple_Queen
Summary: With an eternally disappointed father, delusional sister to avoid and a brother determined to psychoanalyse his every decision, life is tough for Jaime Lannister. Finding the burly blonde traffic warden hunched over his precious car, scribbling rapidly on his pad changes everything.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Shae, Tywin Lannister/Shae
Comments: 85
Kudos: 142
Collections: Jaime x Brienne Week 2020





	1. Monday- Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Happy JB week! Here's my crack like offering, watch me try to strong arm the themes into something I started writing a year ago! 
> 
> I should probably explain that this uses British terms. A traffic warden is the often abused person who gives tickets for inappropriate parking, double yellow lines are never to be parked on, single yellow can be parked on at certain times of day only. Never having had a parking ticket (smug, touch wood), I don't know that much about the process, although I couldn't resist fictionally giving my own car a ticket here for jokes. Clue- it's not Jaime's porsche!
> 
> Thanks to wildlingoftarth for the very speedy read through and helpful feedback!
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as apple-apple-queen, come and say hello- I love a chat, JB related or otherwise!

**Monday- Pride**

If there was one thing Jaime Lannister knew without doubt, it being one of the few facts firmly instilled in him by his father that he still believed wholeheartedly, it was that parking restrictions never apply to Lannisters. Although he now knew that most of what his father had tried to teach him was nonsense, for some reason that had stuck. Lannisters do not listen to the opinions of sheep, and parking regulations were for sheep. Single yellow, double yellow, no return within two hours and all the others he didn’t even bother to read the signs for; he could, and often did, legitimately ignore them all. Parking had been convenient and without complication ever since he passed his driving test over 10 years ago.

That was why when he hurried out of his local Starkbucks Coffee, clutching his coconut flat white in one hand and furiously typing out an extremely childish text to his irritating sister in the other, he was horrified to see the burly blonde traffic warden hunched over his precious car, scribbling rapidly on his pad.

What was the meaning of this? Surely it was obvious that the crimson convertible Porsche was his, after all, the number plate read J LAN 1 (J LAN 2 and J LAN 3 being his Range Rover and Alfa Romeo respectively.) Jaime had assumed that every traffic warden in the city knew not to give a Lannister a ticket, but clearly this one needed educating.

Jaime lengthened his stride, feeling more than a little bit gleeful at the opportunity to give the man a piece of his mind. Two steps later, he quite literally met his downfall- the uneven paving slab. Before hitting the floor, he just had time to realise that he was about to make the worst first impression of his life. The screen of his beloved iPhone Z cracked cleanly in two and Flat white doused his white shirt, staining it a decidedly not white colour and burning his chest in the process.

From his position sprawled on the pavement, he looked up, and up, and up, and up until he eventually reached what had to be the bluest pair of eyes ever to exist. No man could have eyes like that. Tearing his eyes away from hers with difficulty, he noticed the slight curves of breasts and waist under her shapeless uniform, and long hair in a severe bun under her hat and knew he was right.

“You’re a woman,” popped out of his mouth before he could prevent it.

Said woman scowled at him but reached out a calloused hand to help him up then calmly collected his abandoned cup and deposited it into the nearest bin before turning back to him. Jaime quickly found a tissue in his pocket and blotted uselessly at his shirt in attempted nonchalance, pretending he hadn’t been gaping at her in astonishment.

“Is this your car?” She asked, her voice assured yet melodious.

Jaime suddenly remembered why he’d been sprinting towards her in the first place.

“Yes! And I don’t know what you think you’re doing with that pad. Do you not know who I am?” He pointed insistently at the number plate. “I’m Jaime Lannister. Lannisters don’t get parking tickets,” he enunciated slowly, in case she was a bit slow on the uptake.

Her frown deepened. “Ser, nobody has the right to park on double yellows, no matter what their name is.”

Jaime sighed loudly. This woman was going to make him late to the office. Tywin would be wearing the enhanced version of his permanent deeply disappointed expression.

“Either you didn’t pay attention in traffic warden school or you’re new to the area. Which is it?”

The woman seemed to decide he was no longer worth talking to, instead turning back to her pad. Jaime, however, was quite determined that there would be no ticket for his precious J LAN 1.

“You’re the first female traffic warden I’ve seen. Is there even a name for a female traffic warden? Traffic woman? Too literal... hmmm... how about traffic Wench?” he rambled, trying to distract her while he came up with a plan.

“That is both rude and sexist,” the traffic Wench replied, with an air of long suffering. “You know, I’ve spent my whole life around men like you trying to bring me down-“

“But there are no men like me,” he interrupted, with a wink and his most charming smile. There was no time like the present for the scheme he had just hit on.

“Look, just give me five seconds to finish writing your ticket and I’ll be on my way. You’ll never have to see me again.”

“What if I offered to take you out for dinner tonight? Just you and me, somewhere nice with dark corners and good champagne?” He reached out and stroked her upper arm, pleasantly surprised by the firm muscle he could feel through the polyester of her uniform.

“Don’t mock me,” she hissed angrily, jerking back as if he’d hit her arm rather than caressed it. Tearing the ticket off, she stuffed it haphazardly into a little plastic pouch and slapped it carelessly onto J LAN 1’s passenger window. She stalked off in the direction of a blue Fiat 500 parked on the corner without a backwards glance, only the bright red of her neck peeking out below her cap and jerky movements betraying her irritation.

Jaime was flummoxed, he’d never had that kind of reaction when he’d asked a woman out before. Blushing and nervous giggles frequently, even the occasional hungry appraisal of his body. But never immediate rejection and such a look of outright hatred. What had he done wrong? Perhaps she had seen through his plan to get out of his parking ticket. To be fair, it had probably been rather an obvious ploy.

He aimed a kick at J LAN 1’s wheel then cursed at the pain it caused in his foot and the sight of a scuff on the alloy. So now he had scraped knees, bruised toes, was covered in coffee, had no coffee to drink, his precious car and phone were both damaged, he was late for work and worst of all he had a parking ticket. He couldn’t imagine a worse start to the day.

*******

Jaime discovered that his father’s face could in fact show new depths of disapproval when he arrived late and spent much of the morning silently fuming and doodling aggressively, pressing hard enough that his pen made holes in the paper.

It wasn’t really possible for his day to get any worse, but neither could it have been described as going well. After lunch, he spent over an hour on the phone to the creepy Frey head accountant, only to lose the account. That earned the kind of telling off a child who had stolen and gorged themselves on an entire packet of biscuits would get from his father. Jaime spent much of his father’s rant regretting his life choices, wishing he’d had the guts to pursue a career as a personal trainer rather than studying finance and joining the family business.

Cersei stopped by after lunch for their usual squabble littered with insinuations. “Nobody will ever love you as much as I do,” “we’re two halves of a whole” etcetera. Jaime was almost tempted to answer “actually, I think you’re right” just to find out what she wanted of him. But he suspected it would be something less than legal, and had long ago decided he would rather live in denial of his sister having those kind of tastes.

Living obliviously was less likely to mentally scar him for life, not that her thinly veiled suggestions hadn’t already done so to some extent- his dating history was irrefutable proof of that. Jaime had been on hundreds of first dates, he’d tried women and men of every type imaginable. But he’d never managed a second date, and even though he’d only been able to bring himself to sleep with a few of them, he’d still earned himself a reputation as a playboy. Jaime could never be sure what held him back from pursuing someone beyond a first date, only that something felt wrong each time. The way they threw themselves at him was such a turn off, and Cersei’s face would flash into his mind, accompanied by a little niggling voice that said “but what if she’s right?”

Even arriving home in the evening didn’t stop him dwelling on his parking ticket. If anything, he obsessed about it more without work to distract him.

Throwing his tie and shirt into the mound by his bedroom door that he never seemed to get round to taking to the dry cleaner, he wandered back towards the lounge to find Tyrion had arrived home and was flicking through the TV.

Taking one look at his brother, Tyrion turned off the TV, shoved him into the other recliner chair and pushed the handle. Jaime dropped into a semi reclined position with his legs up with a strangled cry. Tyrion perched himself back in the other chair and steepled his fingers.

“Brother, you seem troubled...” Started Tyrion, in his most calming voice.

“Stop practicing on me you little...” fumed Jaime, throwing a cushion in his direction for good measure. Ever since Tyrion had started his psychiatry training, psychoanalysing everyone in the vicinity had become his favourite pastime. Cersei and their father were usually promising options, but even Jaime was often subjected to his concerned mmmms and prying questions.

Tyrion dodged the pillow and whined “but you actually do seem troubled! I’m just trying to be a good brother!”

Jaime scowled at him. “Fine, but no laughing.”

“When have I ever laughed at your problems?”

“Frequently! Every time Cersei and I are in the same room for one.”

“You must admit she can be amusing to watch though Jaime? She is utterly crazy.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to call people crazy any more?”

“Only when it applies to Cersei,” laughed Tyrion. “Now would you please tell me what’s got you looking like a sulky teenager?”

Jaime took a deep breath then admitted, in the tone of voice usually used in confession. “I got a parking ticket today.”

Tyrion stared at his brother, as if letting the information sink in then suddenly burst out laughing. “Please tell me you don’t believe that rubbish father’s always spouting about Lannisters not getting parking tickets?”

“N...no,” replied Jaime, silently fuming. Was that really not a thing? Why had he believed that when he hadn’t been stupid enough to believe almost anything else his father said... Perhaps he just wanted to believe it, to have the justification to park anywhere he wanted to. It certainly had made life a lot easier.

“But thats not all is it?” Asked Tyrion, looking at him carefully.

It didn’t take much prompting for Jaime to break into a detailed account of all his misfortunes, from the spilt coffee to the dented alloy.

But Tyrion just gave him an understanding smile. “So It’s not about the ticket at all,” he said, confidently.

“What?! Of course it is!”

“No, it’s because this traffic... Wench... rejected you.”

Jaime thought about the traffic wench again, her mismatched features flashed into his mind but were quickly replaced by wondering what her mile long legs would look like in a skirt. If the strength of her upper arms were anything to go by, they would probably be all muscle. She could probably pin him down and... He cut that thought off before it could go any further- he hadn’t wanted to date her really, he’d just wanted to get out of the ticket.

“It was the ticket!” He shouted at Tyrion and flounced off to the kitchen in search of a beer, selfishly not offering his brother one.


	2. Tuesday- kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing Jaime's unfortunate week (and the tenuous links to the JB week themes)...

Tuesday dawned bright and beautiful for most of the occupants of Kings Landing. Jaime, on the other hand, did not agree. After spending the night tossing and turning, fixated on the traffic Wench and his parking ticket, he was exhausted. He felt as if she’d beaten him, and Jaime hated losing. In the early hours of the morning, he had decided that there was only one way to make himself feel better about the situation. He was going to go back there and park on those godsdamned double yellow lines again and this time he wasn’t going to get a ticket, even if he had to use every charm he had. He would just have to be very careful not to look into the traffic Wench’s annoying hypnotic eyes. Then he would win and she would lose and Jaime could be happy again.

That thought made him pause for a minute though. Had he been happy before yesterday? Jaime groaned and pulled his pillow over his face. That was a thought for another time. If he could beat the Wench at her own stupid game then he would be happier than he was right now. That would have to do.

***

The barista looked confusedly up at him. Jaime supposed that most men would have thought her beautiful with her long red hair and delicate, bird like mannerisms. All Jaime could think though was that her blue eyes were nothing to compare to the traffic Wench’s.

“Could you repeat that please Ser?”

“What do you think her order would be?” He pointed through the window towards the Wench, who was giving a grey estate a ticket.

“Her? Isn’t that a man?”

Of all the things for her to fixate on. Jaime almost growled with annoyance that she had made the same mistake he had, he didn’t have time to explore why that might be though- he was in a rush!

“No!” He insisted.

“Well, most people would drink an americano...”

That was a boring option though, Jaime for one would rather go without the caffeine than drink something so dull and bitter. “Just give me two of my usual please,” he decided. Nobody could dislike something so tasty.

“Two caramel mocha frappucinos with extra cream and marshmallows coming right up,” said the barista with a vaguely judgmental tone.

Jaime rushed out of the coffee shop just in time, making sure to watch out for uneven paving slabs this time.

“Hey, traffic Wench!” He cried, sounding as pleased to see her as he could. She looked up from her position, crouched over J LAN 1 with her pen hovering over her pad with a guilty expression that quickly morphed into annoyance.

“I bought you a coffee,” said Jaime, thrusting the second cup of sugary, creamy goodness towards her. 

The traffic Wench shot him a perplexed look but tentatively reached out and took the cup. “My name is not traffic Wench,” she said, with gritted teeth.

“Tell me what it is and perhaps I’ll use it,” countered Jaime flirtatiously.

She looked him up and down, sizing him up. “Brienne, my name is Brienne.”

“I’m Jaime, nice to meet you! See- that wasn’t so hard was it!” He stuck out his free hand and she reluctantly shook it then copied him when he took a slurp of his drink. The traffic Wench grimaced at the taste. Brienne, he mentally corrected himself. It was a nice name, it suited her- soft yet determined.

“I’m still giving you a ticket,” she said determinedly.

“Of course,” pouted Jaime. “But those lovely long legs of yours must be tired with all the walking you do. Why don’t you sit down with me while you finish your drink and tell me about yourself... Or if you prefer you could tell me about all the ways I’ve been a bad boy,” he purred, positioning himself on a nearby bench with one arm thrown carefully up on the back to make his chest look broader.

“This is not a laughing matter! She exclaimed, following him over and looming over him, radiating disapproval like a teacher reprimanding a naughty child. Jaime’s imagination promptly conjured a scenario involving her spanking him which made him need to cross his legs awkwardly before he ended up with a public decency arrest to add to his parking ticket. “You’ve completely blocked off the pavement today, how are wheelchairs and prams supposed to get past?!”

Jaime couldn’t resist staring into her eyes again. They were somehow bluer than blue, gleaming with the passion she clearly felt. When had he last felt that passionate about something? Working for his father certainly didn’t instil any passion. He couldn’t even say he hated his job, he just felt apathetic about it. Probably when he was thinking of applying for university, he decided. He could still recall the sense of excitement that he could make peoples’ lives better. He could also still remember his fathers acerbic words-“don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to go and laze around at university, you need to learn how to run the company”.

“Yes, I’m very selfish and bad,” soothed Jaime, patting the bench next to him. “Why don’t you sit down and give me a really expensive fine?”

Brienne scowled at him again but sat down and continued her tirade, interspersed with shudder accompanied sips of coffee. It only took Jaime a few minutes to guide the conversation to other topics. The more they spoke, the more they seemed to find they had in common- a love of the gym and martial arts, documentaries on the age of heroes and over bearing relations who thought they knew what was best for them.

As well as having a very pleasant time, Jaime really thought he was winning. He reached out along the back of the bench with an exaggerated yawn and shifted a little closer then opened his mouth to ask her out again (this time for a spar at the gym, and maybe dinner after), but she leapt up as if she’d been burned. 

“I’m not falling for this!” She shouted, fumbling for her pad.

Jaime’s cries of “wait!” Were ignored as she thumped another ticket on his car and sped off.

***

Tyrion laughed until his eyes streamed and he got the hiccups when Jaime recounted the failure of his plan.

“Wait, is the plan to get her to go out with you or are you still pretending it’s about the parking ticket?”

“I don’t like her,” reiterated Jaime, knowing full well that he sounded like a petulant child but not caring.

“Jaime, as your brother and honorary shrink, let me be the first to tell you that you are in denial and it isn’t healthy.”

“You’re not my psychiatrist! I don’t need one!” Shouted Jaime, stomping off to his bedroom where he spent half an hour poking angrily at the property app on his pone, until he realised that if he moved out he wouldn’t have anyone to refuse Cersei entry.


	3. Wednesday- wrath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, it's Wednesday and Jaime's week isn't getting much better yet...

Wednesday was an extremely frustrating day for Jaime. Arriving early, he smoothly parallel parked in what had become his usual spot and headed into Starkbucks to buy another pair of coffees. But after waiting on their bench for twenty minutes or so, he had drank all of Brienne’s coffee as well as his and given himself the caffeine shakes. Standing with the vague intention of wandering aimless up and down the street until he found her, he was shocked to see a different traffic warden approaching J LAN 1. This one was definitely male, although he looked barely more than sixteen. He pulled his hat low over his chocolate brown hair, to look warily around from the depths of the brim as if he was terrified that J LAN 1’s owner might return.

‘Damn right the owners going to return!’ Thought Jaime, puffing out his chest as he marched over.

The young man literally trembled at the sight of Jaime doing his best impression of his father in full wrath mode. Even his name badge saying ‘Podrick’ quivered. He dropped his pad, scrambling to pick it up- probably in an attempt to avoid making eye contact with or speaking to Jaime.

“Where is Brienne?” Asked Jaime, sounding as displeased as possible.

Podrick looked up from his position crouched on the floor with an expression of abject fear. “She asked me to swap patches with her,” he squeaked.

“And where is your patch?”

“I’m not supposed to say!”

“Why not? I just want to speak to her.”

“The people who want to beat us up for giving them a ticket usually say that...” Podrick made no effort to stand up, he looked close to assuming the brace position until Jaime went away.

Jaime opened his mouth to try and reassure Podrick that he didn’t have plans to try and beat Brienne up, and even if he did his chances of success would probably be slim, but was interrupted by his phone.

‘DANGER DANGER DANGER’ blared out into the quiet street. Jaime broke out in a cold sweat and considered joining Podrick curled up on the ground like a hedgehog until his father’s personalised ring tone stopped. Checking the time, he saw that it was somehow 9:30 already and he was late again.

There was nothing else for it, he had to abandon his search for Brienne until the next day. Taking out one of his business cards, he crammed it roughly into Podrick’s pocket and growled “make sure she gets that”. The effect was rather ruined when he abruptly turned and scrambled into J LAN 1.

Jaime spent the rest of the day thinking about Brienne. He thought about her while writing up the new Clegane contract, only realising how distracted he’d been when his secretary, Pia, popped her head round the door and asked if ‘Brienne’ was a new piece of terminology and if so what it meant. He fumbled his way through an entirely fictional explanation and asked her to send it back to him for amendments. Re-reading it, he realised he’d replaced every “borrow” with “Brienne”.

He thought about her when he went to buy lunch, accidentally blurting out “Brie...” then stopping himself. The sandwich shop lady interpreted his verbal mishap as “brie and bacon panini” and Jaime was too embarrassed to correct her, even though he’d actually wanted a tuna sandwich.

He thought about her on the treadmill in the gym, and almost fell off when he saw a tall, blonde head in the mirror. Sadly, this one definitely was a man, although of a similar build with familiar piercing blue eyes. Maybe a brother? He thought about approaching but wasn’t sure what to say apart from “tell your sister to stop giving me parking tickets,” and that probably wouldn’t go down very well.

He gritted his teeth and repeated the names of the rulers of Westeros all the way back to Mad King Aerys to try not to think about her about her in the shower at the gym in full view of passers by, and mostly succeeded.

He talked his friend Addam’s ear off about her when they met in the pub for a beer, ignoring all his attempts to guide the conversation onto other topics. Eventually, sick and tired of his whining, Addam banged his head on the table and exclaimed exhaustedly “you’ve asked her out twice, I think you’re going to have to get used to the idea that not everyone in the world fancies you. That’s how it is for the rest of us mere mortals.”

“I don’t want to date her! I just want her to stop giving me parking tickets!” Shouted Jaime, wondering where Addam had got that idea from- had he been speaking to Tyrion?

Later that night, after laying awake chasing sleep for hours, he even dreamed of her. She was spread eagled on the bonnet of J LAN 1, wearing nothing but her hat and a pair of impracticality high stilettos. As dream Jaime approached, she slid surprisingly gracefully to the ground and pulled off her hat, throwing it somewhere off to the side then shook out her hair. Dream Jaime’s jaw dropped and... he was rudely awakened by dunken laughter in the kitchen. Tyrion. Jaime’s sleep deprived brain decided he urgently needed his little brother’s help.

He threw open his bedroom door with a crash, startling Tyrion’s friend Shae, who Jaime suspected was actually more of a friend with benefits. Excellent, thought Jaime, Shae was a sex and relationship counsellor, perhaps she could help him to figure out his strange feelings too.

“Tyrion, what would you say if I was attracted to Brienne? Not that I definitely am…”

Tyrion looked up glassy eyed at him from his position slumped at the table. “Who’s Brienne?” He slurred.

Shae sashayed over from the kitchen with two large glasses and a bottle of wine. “Ooh, Jaime, care to join us?” She said with a seductive wink. Jaime was sure it wasn’t just a drink she was inviting him to join them for.

Tyrion’s cry of “eww, Shae- no! He’s my brother. Incest is Cersei’s thing,” confirmed it.

Shae pouted. “But my lion, I’m not asking you to-“

Tyrion cut her off. “No, absolutely not!”

“Erm... thank you for your kind offer Shae, but I was actually just after some advice please,” mumbled Jaime, acutely embarrassed.

“Brienne must be the traffic warden! You’re finally admitting its not about the ticket!” Tyrion started to clap very slowly.

“I... think so. I just need confirmation...” said Jaime, sliding into a chair across the table.

Tyrion straightened and seemed to try to put on his serious psychiatrist persona, the smile he couldn’t contain flitting over his lips somewhat ruining the effect. Shae dropped heavily into the seat next to him.

“First of all I thought it was about the parking tickets, then I started to think I was annoyed because she rejected me- I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. But I’ve been thinking about her all day, then I had a dream about her and I think I realised I actually am attracted to her, and I’m sad she rejected me,” said Jaime plaintively.

“Tell us about your dream,” requested Shae, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

Jaime was sure that he wasn’t going to be sharing his dream with anyone any time soon. “It was nice,” he said pathetically.

Tyrion changed back into his annoying little brother persona with a cackle.

“Never mind the dream,” Jaime snapped. “I just can’t stop thinking about her, and I think she might like me too- what do I do?” Now he had admitted to himself that he was attracted to her, he could see that her body language had been screaming reciprocated attraction.

“Alright, so let’s assume you’re right, which I’m not saying you are, and she is attracted to you. Let’s figure out why she may have rejected you. Tell me more about Brienne,” said Tyrion, putting his hand over Shaes when she started to tap her fingernails impatiently on the table.

“She’s...” Jaime faltered and ignored Tyrion’s lifted eyebrow. “Her eyes, I can’t even describe how blue they are. She’s taller than me and really strong. She has freckles and she blushes a lot, it’s cute. Her nose has been broken a few times and her hairs short and sort of fluffy, I really want to feel it.”

“Jaime, do you have a sub kink? It’s ok if you do,” cut in Shae.

“I don’t think Jaime’s quite at the stage where he needs sex therapy yet my dear,” said Tyrion, patting Shae consolingly on the shoulder before turning back to Jaime. “Jaime, I can see you like her a lot so forgive me for saying, but the woman you’re describing... might homely be an appropriate way to describe her?”

Jaime tramped down the angry retort he wanted to give- Tyrion was just trying to help, not insult Brienne. “I guess I thought her ugly when we first met... but now- her eyes Tyrion!”

“Yes, yes, I can see you’re a big fan of her eyes,” said Tyrion soothingly. “Now, tell me how you imagine life might have been for someone who looks like Brienne. In particular dating.”

“For the Gods sake, it’s like explaining things to a toddler!” Interjected Shae frustratedly, only calming down a little with Tyrion’s whispered promise that it wouldn’t be much longer then they’d go and do “that thing that she likes”. Jaime really didn’t want to know what that thing was. He hoped it wasn’t going to be something he could hear from his bedroom.

Jaime tried to set aside his newfound feelings for Brienne and imagine how life might be if he was what society deemed ugly. “I imagine she may not have dated much... she might have been bullied at school. She could have issues with… trust and self confidence.”

Tyrion smiled proudly. “Well done Jaime! So, with that in mind, how do you think you can improve your chances of getting a date?”

“Errr…. I suppose I could try to be her friend first?”

“An excellent idea! Now, session over, you can pay my rent this month as fees!” And he bundled Shae off to his room.

“You’re not even qualified!” Jaime shouted after him, but he wandered back to his room feeling a little more positive.


	4. Thursday- diligence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think it's Friday today but here's Thursday because AO3 helpfully went down for the 2 hours I could make time to update yesterday. Going to attempt a double update today to get back on track so keep an eye out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on the culture of text messaging in the UK (that's a phrase I never thought I'd use!): Unless your text is extremely formal (like your boss or something), all text messages must have kisses at the end. Two is usually a good number. The absence of xx indicates that you are pissed off at the receiver. I understand some countries do not use this convenient code for passive aggressively showing your anger so thought I had best explain.

Just as every morning, the first thing Jaime did after his alarm went off was to check his phone. He knew it was probably unhealthy to be so attached to his phone, but this morning he was glad for his unhealthy habit. He had a message from an unknown number.

If you want to appeal your parking tickets the details for how to do so are on the back. You don’t need to take it up with the issuing warden. BW, Brienne.

Jaime grinned- he had her number. He promptly saved it as Traffic Wench❤️ then flexed his fingers and spent fifteen minutes drafting a reply.

Hi Brienne, it’s good to hear from you. I actually gave your colleague my card because I was hoping we could meet for a spar some time, you seem like you’d make a really great opponent 😊 Jaime xx

The read icon appeared almost immediately but a response didn’t materialise until after Jaime had showered and was sat eating his coco pops. He dived for his phone as soon as the screen lit up.

Ok, as long as this isn’t a wind up like when you asked me out the other day.

Jaime frowned at his phone as he deliberated. He was less likely to scare her off if he tried to be friends with her first, but he couldn’t bear for her to think he’d been joking. Eventually he went for the middle ground, feeling happy that the ball was well and truly in her court.

It definitely wasn’t a wind up, but if you just want to be friends that’s fine. If you’re on your usual patch this morning I could bring you a coffee and we could plan that spar? xx

Her reply was brief and unhelpful in Jaime’s opinion.

You’re a very confusing man.

But another followed straight after.

Cappuccino please.

Jaime scrambled to get dressed. The sooner he got there, the more time he’d have with Brienne.

***  
The road outside the coffee shop was packed as usual for an early morning. In spite of cruising around for what felt like forever, Jaime couldn’t find a parking space. Eventually, in desperation he squeezed into a gap behind a black range rover and hurried to join the queue of tired looking commuters waiting for their caffeine fix.

As he emerged back onto the sunny street, a hand reached out and tapped him on the shoulder, disturbing him from his reverie. 

“Wench!” Exclaimed Jaime happily. Jaime looked her up and down, drinking her in as if he hadn’t seen her for months rather than just a day. He realised he’d only ever seen her in uniform, and was overcome by imagining her in a variety of different outfits. She’d be delectable in a bikini...

Brienne sat down on their usual bench and slipped off her hat, taking Jaime back to his dream with alacrity.

“My name is Brienne, not Wench,” she said firmly, accepting the coffee he held out. 

“It’s a term of endearment!”

“Which I don’t like. It’s not endearing to be called something you see as an insult,” she countered.

“Fine. I’m sorry Brienne,” replied Jaime, annoyed that she still wasn’t falling at his feet. 

An uncomfortable silence started and stretched longer than Jaime knew what to do with. It was broken by the last person Jaime wanted to see, at that moment and most other moments: His twin. Jaime would have preferred the silence.

Cersei emerged from Starkbucks with a double espresso and a glare, walking as if she owned the street and the attention of everyone on it. Jaime chastised himself for being in too much of a rush to notice C LAN 1, parked a couple of cars down from J LAN 2. Cersei’s strut paused as she neared their bench and shark like, she diverted her course with a toss of her perfect blonde curls. Jaime contemplated running for J LAN 2, but he couldn’t leave Brienne to face his unstable sister alone. Standing, he took a step to his right to block the two women. Unfortunately, Cersei wasn’t so easy to distract when she had someone in her sights.

“Who’s she? Jaime, you know you aren’t supposed to talk to other women. Although,I’m not entirely sure that is a woman actually,” she said, leaning to the side to look Brienne up and down critically.

Jaime opened his mouth to defend his lady, only she didn’t seem to need defending, because Brienne had leapt up and circled round to face down Cersei.

“Jaime is an adult, he can talk to whoever he wants,” she said firmly.

“He’s my twin, we’re practically the same person in two bodies. So what I say goes, and I say he shouldn’t be speaking to you, whoever you are,” hissed Cersei.

Brienne turned her calm gaze to him and said conversationally, “you look like a whole person to me.”

With those simple words, Jaime had a revelation. Although since his teenage years, he had mostly ignored Cersei’s strange beliefs, a part of him had always wondered if she might actually be right, and that was largely what had held him back from ever committing to a relationship. But Brienne had summed up the truth in one short sentence. He was a whole person, and he could talk to and love whoever he wanted to. Brienne would always be who he wanted, he knew with sudden clarity.

Cersei’s nostrils flared in that way they usually did when she was building up to a scene making tirade.

But Brienne just frowned and pulled her pad and pen out of her breast pocket. “Ms Lannister, is that your car?”

“Yes, but Lannisters don’t get parking tickets! I’m telling father!” Wailed Cersei, tottering along as fast as she could in her four inch heels and tight skirt to try and beat Brienne to C LAN 1 before she could issue the ticket.

“They do actually,” said Jaime, with a commiserative shrug.

Brienne returned to her place on the bench with a sigh. “Are all your family like that?”

Jaime plonked himself back down next to her. “Well, my father is...” He stroked his chin in deliberation, trying to think of a word to accurately sum up his father. There weren’t any that he could think of. “Scary, and hard to please,” didn’t seem to put across the full magnitude but was the closest he could come up with. 

“My Mother died when I was a child. You just met my twin, Cersei. Then there’s my little brother Tyrion, we live together. He’s pretty normal compared to Father and Cersei. Life hasn’t been easy for him though, he’s a dwarf and Father and Cersei have always picked on him, I’ve had to stick up for him a lot. But since Father disowned him for starting his psychiatry training he’s doing pretty well, although it’s quite annoying how he keeps practicing on me...” Jaime shut his mouth with a snap, suddenly realising he was babbling.

“That all sounds really tough,” said Brienne. Her eyes showed him the depth of her sympathy.

“Life would be a lot easier if I could stand up to father, even if I could just stop working at the company.”

“What would you do instead?”

Jaime didn’t need to be asked twice. He jumped straight into an explanation of his dream gym, the equipment and classes that he’d have. Then promptly stopped when he realised he was probably being boring. But Brienne was looking at him with a small smile that seemed to say she was impressed.

“Is it the money that’s stopping you?” She asked.

“No, my trust fund would probably be enough to open a whole chain of gyms. But father would never approve.”

“Why does that matter to you?” 

Jaime’s mind ground to a sudden halt then restarted at a hundred miles an hour. Why did he care about his fathers approval? It wasn’t as if his father gave a single fuck about Jaime’s happiness, only about the family reputation and his business. So why had he held himself back from doing what he wanted with his life? He glanced back towards Brienne, who threw him a small concerned smile. She was truly amazing- strong, beautiful and so kind that she even cared about the annoying coffee buying stranger she’d just met.

“Go out with me,” he begged, not caring a jot that he was begging and was supposed to be trying to become her friend first.

“I... oh...” stuttered Brienne. 

Jaime opened his mouth to beg some more but was interrupted by a woman with a small green pram trying to squeeze past J LAN 2 and loudly complaining about selfish parking to her baby. 

“Jaime, is that your car?” Asked Brienne in a dangerously low voice, seeming to have only just noticed J LAN 2.

That was when it all went wrong again. There was shouting and pleading and storming off. Afterwards, Jaime wasn’t even sure which was from who. All he knew was that he’d ended up with another parking ticket, no date and what felt suspiciously like a broken heart. 

He didn’t go to work that day, instead lazing on the sofa surrounded by snacks, feeling sorry for himself. After lunch, he glumly opened his laptop to search for buildings he could buy that could be converted into a gym. He made a list of a few he could go and visit, then moved on to look for personal trainer courses.

Tyrion arrived home around 7, grumbling that even though he had chosen to specialise in psychiatry he could still recognise a possible PE. Wandering into the lounge and noticing Jaime’s discarded packets, random pages of scrawl and wan face, he stopped in his tracks.

“Are you... sick?” He asked perplexedly. “You don’t look like you’ve been to work today, and I’ve just ejected Cersei from downstairs, she was raving something about parking tickets today.”

“I’ve quit... only please don’t tell Father.” 

“Do you not think he might notice?” Asked Tyrion confusedly.

“No,” replied Jaime in all honesty.

“What in the name of the Seven has come over you?! Did your traffic Wench put you up to this? Are you planning to spend your days learning to give parking tickets and making tall babies? Most importantly, how are you planning to pay your half of the rent?”

“She’s not my traffic Wench Tyrion, it all went wrong again somehow, help me,” he pleaded. “Oh, and I’m opening a gym. I’m going to be a personal trainer like I always wanted, Brienne thinks it would be a good idea,” he finished quickly.

Tyrion collapsed onto the sofa with a deep sigh, ending up half on Jaime’s feet. “Let me get this straight. I’ve been trying to nudge you to make a change like this for years. You meet this woman and she persuades you in a matter of days?!” 

“Tyrion, you’re completely missing the point!” Exclaimed Jaime, shifting to better see his brother and nearly catapulting him across the room in the process. “She’s not my anything, and never will be,” he finished mournfully.

“Seriously Jaime, what is it about this woman? You’ve barely dated before, never had a long term relationship and suddenly you’re head over heels for a practical stranger. If you finally want to meet someone, Shae and I can probably think of a hundred women who would date you. You don’t have to break your heart over this one because she’s playing hard to get.”

“But she’s perfect, I don’t want to date anyone else. And I don’t think she’s playing hard to get, I think she has low self confidence... or maybe she just doesn’t like me...” Jaime picked at the trim of a nearby cushion, only to find it abruptly torn from his grasp and whacked aggressively on his head. 

“Owwww!”

Tyrion hit him a few more times for good measure then burst into a rant focussed on how much of a push over Jaime was and how he needed to stand up for himself and stop letting others determine his life path. He finished, practically shouting, with “if you want this woman, you have to show her you’re worthy of her- go out there and tell Cersei and Father to fucking fuck off to the far side of fuck and stop fucking parking on fucking double yellows!”

Maybe Tyrion was right, he could do this. He could be his own man, open his gym and be happy. He could show Brienne that he was worthy of her and become the best damn friend she had ever had. Then, when the moment was right, if she seemed amenable, he would swoop in and become the best damn boyfriend she could ever have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medical note for anyone interested: A PE is a blood clot in the lung, the patient needs blood thinners stat. They can suffer complications such as an abnormal heart rhythm which can be fatal. Getting the medics to review a psychiatric inpatient can be tricky, there's often a belief that when you decide to specialise in mental health you forget everything else you know about medicine.


	5. Friday- charity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Jaime's Friday

Jaime woke up feeling like a new man on Friday. He knew what he needed to do, and he was going to be very busy doing it all day. His top priority for the day though, was to apologise to Brienne in person. All of his texts from the night before had gone unanswered, he had even tried to call her but she hadn’t picked up. Jaime’s mouth went dry with the thought that this was his last chance to make up with her. 

Mindful of the meetings he had planned for later that day (and that it would bring out his eyes, which hopefully Brienne might appreciate), he dressed in his nicest green shirt and made his way back to the bench that he now saw as theirs. Finding a parking space was an impossibility, but Jaime had come prepared this time. He drove to a car park a couple of streets away with the little bag of coins he had combed the flat for that morning, even picking through the crumbs down the back of the sofa.

Only, that morning the bench wasn’t theirs. Brienne was there, wearing an uncertain smile and skinny jeans that emphasised the length of her legs and made Jaime’s mouth water. But her companion was not Jaime, as it should be. No, it was Tyrion who sat with her, legs dangling from the bench- the snake!

Seeing Jaime, he jumped back to earth. “Unfortunately I have a ward round to get to now, but it was nice to meet you Brienne, you certainly live up to everything I’ve heard about you.”

“Good morning brother,” said Jaime angrily, blocking his path. But Tyrion evaded him with a smirk and clapped him on the highest body part he could reach, which was somewhere around the hip, with a muttered “you can thank me later.”

Jaime thought about following his brother to give him a piece of his mind for half a second, but quickly decided time with Brienne was far preferable. Tyrion could get his verbal beating later.

Brienne smiled at him with a shy blush and patted the bench next to her. Jaime sat a few inches closer than socially acceptable and grinned like a fool. She seemed to have forgiven him already.

“Shall we forget about yesterday? Your brother tells me you’re making progress towards opening your gym?”

“Yes! I’ve signed up for a PT training course, and today I’m going to visit some sites then tell my father and my sister I’ve quit!” Said Jaime excitedly. 

“Sounds like you’re quite busy then, let me know if you need help with anything. I teach a few exercise classes in my spare time- mainly circuits, ab attack, things like that- so I have a vague idea how much work a gym can be.”

Jaime was momentarily waylaid by wondering what an ab attack instructor’s abs would look like, but managed to come back to himself in time to respond in an extremely positive, grateful manner. 

That was how Brienne ended up helping him select the most perfect little building, on old mill just outside the walls of the old red keep, with a large field attached for classes when the weather was warm. They laughed as they ran around shouting out outlandish new purposes for the rooms. Jaime drew the line at the ladies changing room being twice the size of the mens and made a mental note to ignore Brienne and look into getting a Starkbucks stand in the foyer.

Brienne somehow ended up tagging along on his next stop too- the Lannister office block. Although, realistically, Jaime knew it was a terrible idea, he was enjoying her company, and the little glances she kept giving him under her lashes as they walked along side by side, too much to say goodbye just yet. He repeated his mantra “be her friend first” in his head a few more times.

In some ways the meeting was an unmitigated disaster, in others an unparalleled success. His father and Cersei’s initial responses on being told he had quit and would be opening a gym were laughter and disbelief, but then they turned on Brienne and Jaime suddenly grew the backbone Tyrion often spoke of.

“And who is she, pray tell?” Asked Tywin.

“She’s Jaime’s pet traffic warden,” Cersei sneered. “She dared to give me a ticket!”

“Don’t be ridiculous Cersei, Lannisters do not get-”

“She’s my friend, and Lannisters are not above parking tickets! She was just doing her job!” Interrupted Jaime, his reward the approving smile on Brienne’s lips. “Brienne will be my partner in managing the gym, and neither of you will be welcome there,” he added impulsively.

Tywin clearly thought that Jaime would be begging on his knees for his job back within a week, but Cersei seemed more worried- shooting Jaime that look that meant she wanted to speak to him alone. But Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and pulled her along behind him as he marched elatedly back out into the sunlight. The air felt fresher than it had in a long time even though they stood by a busy road with cars stationary in traffic, pumping out fumes. His heart swelled a little at the feeling of Brienne’s warm hand in his, and the way her fingers were the perfect size to lace between his. But he dropped her hand once they were outside nonetheless- friends first, he reminded himself.

“I can’t be co-manager Jaime- I already have a job!”

Jaime smiled to himself. She’d already told him she hated her job, he would wear her down. Then they could spend the whole working week together. Being friends would be so much easier if he didn’t have to chase her around the streets of Kings Landing with coffee.


	6. Saturday- gluttony and temperance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Saturday, so I'm back up to date now! Sunday will just be a short epilogue.

Jaime walked into his gym with a spring in his step, collecting the pair of coffees waiting for him on the Starkbucks stand on his way past and making his way to his office. Most people complained about working weekends, but not him. He loved every aspect of his job, from working through the finances to working one to one with a client and celebrating every improvement in their fitness with them. Not having to see his father or sister’s faces every day were also significant benefits. 

What he enjoyed most though, was working with his best friend. Drinking coffee, planning sessions, the weekly bootcamps in which they’d go head to head to try and inspire the class. Just seeing her face made him happy. Even though he’d all but moved into her flat within a few months of opening the gym, at the same time that he’d persuaded her to quit her job and work with him instead, he still couldn’t get enough of her. Her patience with him and something in the way she smiled at him made Jaime suspect that she might feel the same, but it was never quite enough. Never enough to convince him that the risk of losing her friendship was worth opening his big mouth and saying the words “Brienne, I love you, and not like a best friend.” 

But he did, he loved her with all his heart. He’d suspected he might a year ago when she’d stood up to his sister, except there didn’t seem to be a limit to it. Every day he seemed to love her a little more. Tyrion was always telling him to “make a move or move on” but his poor swollen heart couldn’t even imagine wanting someone else. So this was how he lived, in the perpetual agony of probably unrequited love, hiding inappropriate boners and resisting smashing his lips to hers multiple times a day.

The office was large and bright, with two windows, two desks and a chocolate brown leather sofa sat on the expensive hardwood floor. The sofa, which should have been empty, was occupied by Jaime’s apparently more successful brother. Although Jaime wore the comfortable joggers and trainers that he was lucky enough to be able to work in and Tyrion was wearing his customary suit, precisely nobody would be labelling Tyrion the more successful one today. Tyrion’s jacket was abandoned on the floor in the doorway, his shirt was untucked with the collar up and had a stain on the chest which both looked and smelt like vomit. Unsure whether waking him was a good idea, Jaime nevertheless ventured further into the cloud of vomit and alcohol fumes with a heavy heart to check whether his brother had managed to drink himself into an early grave.

Tyrion roused with a gentle shake, groaning then letting out an inventive string of swear words as he pushed himself up into a vaguely upright position.

“Not that I don’t like seeing you brother dear, but dare I ask what brings you here on this beautiful morning?” Asked Jaime cheerfully.

“It’s not a beautiful morning,” Tyrion declared. “I hoped I drank enough to forget, but sadly not. Shae cheated on me… with Father. Do you have any alcohol?”  
Jaime shook his head, he must have misheard, perhaps there was something in his ear. He let out an awkward laugh, “sorry Tyrion, I think I misheard you. I almost thought you said Shae cheated on you with father.”

“You heard right, I came home early yesterday and caught them in my bed.”

The image of his father’s white buttocks bobbing up and down above Shae sprang suddenly into Jaime’s mind unbidden. He felt an overwhelming sense of nausea and tasted the foul acid of vomit in the back of his throat. 

“Gods, that is disgusting. I’m so sorry Tyrion.” Jaime sat down heavily on the couch with a gentle whump of expelled air.

“It’s ok, I wasn’t in love with her or anything,” said Tyrion with a sideways glance at Jaime that suggested he wasn’t being entirely honest. “Not like you and Brienne.”

“You’re going to start on me again now? When you’re heartbroken and hanging out of your arse?”

“Never a better time. Don’t make the same mistakes I made, tell her you love her and show her as much as possible.”

Jaime groaned and put his head in his hands, he had explained his reasons for not speaking so many times. He was so fed up of Tyrion’s badgering that he had even started to avoid him. He opened his mouth to remind Tyrion as rudely as possible that it was none of his business, but was interrupted by the door flying open to reveal Brienne, looking even paler than her milky skin usually was.

“Jaime, I…” Brienne stuttered, but she couldn’t seem to find any words. The silence stretched thin, endlessly long like a dropped reel of thread.

Tyrion stretched and muttered something about needing a coffee, before shuffling awkwardly out of the room through the small gap next to Brienne in the doorway. She seemed too shocked to move.

Jaime’s instinct was to deflect, probably by telling a joke, then turn tail and run. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you didn’t overhear?” He asked hopefully.

“It’s ok, I know you were both joking. Sounds like you needed a laugh after hearing news like that,” said Brienne, with a trembling chin.

It was her tone of voice- sad and wistful- that made his mind up for him. Jaime gathered his courage and, feeling as if he was jumping through the moon door without a parachute, made his confession.

“It wasn’t a joke, I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you- a year and five days ago today. And just so you know, all those times I asked you out- also not joking.” Jaime stood up decisively and walked towards Brienne, even though at his approach she seemed to want to run away. Clasping her hands, he pulled her over to sit next to him on the sofa and stared into her beautiful eyes, trying to convey his sincerity.

“But you can’t, you’re you and I’m me…” Brienne trailed off, looking down at her sports leggings and hoody clad body as if surprised to see it. If only she knew how much her array of sports leggings had tortured him over the last year.

“You’re perfect and I’m completely unworthy,” clarified Jaime. Her response hadn’t been as welcoming as he’d hoped, but shock and disbelief were better than disgust and immediate rejection surely. Brienne wrenched her hands out of his and covered her face with them. 

“Delusional,” she whispered.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked hopefully, deciding that he might as well commit fully now he’d started. Brienne’s hands bobbed up and down with the movement of her head. Nodding meant yes, Jaime grinned. Her hands slowly inched down to reveal her face, bearing one of Jaime’s favourite shades of blush he had catalogued- best described as watermelon.

Wasting no further time, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her impossibly soft ones. There was a lot about Brienne that was impossible, from the blue of her eyes to her strength and her infinite patience with him Jaime mused. But then she deepened the kiss from a chaste press of lips into a deliciously arousing tangle of tongues and chased all thought from his mind. This had been so worth the wait. 

Until he felt something damp on her cheek. Was he was such a bad kisser that he’d slobbered all over her cheeks already? He asked himself, before realising the true explanation was that Brienne was crying. He pulled reluctantly back, confused- not to flatter himself but he thought she had seemed to be enjoying the kiss.

“Brienne, are you alright?” He asked gently, not wanting to draw attention to her tears. He’d never made someone cry by kissing them before but he was fairly sure that it was not a good thing.

Brienne broke into noisy sobs and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Of course I am, I’m happy you idiot!” 

Jaime hugged her close and rained kisses onto her head. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Brienne whispered back.

And just like that, Jaime was happy.


	7. Sunday- lust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The farce/fluff is coming to an end, make sure you brush your teeth after! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos and commented, you've all made me smile.
> 
> P.S: I've cheated again by fast forwarding another year (probably should have explained that we skipped a year last chapter too...)

Over the last year, Sunday mornings had become one of the highlights of Jaime’s week. The expense of employing Peck to open the gym and teach the morning classes was completely worth it. He and Brienne would wake up late, have the slow, languorous sex that made his toes curl then have a lazy breakfast in bed before Jaime had to go into work for the afternoon. Leaving Brienne in their cosy little house to enjoy the rest of her day off never got easier. 

Jaime crammed his feet into his trainers without bothering to undo the laces and wandered into the kitchen. Brienne sat at the breakfast bar in her dressing gown, calmly sipping coffee and scrolling through the news on her phone. Leaning in for one more kiss, he surreptitiously sniffed her hair. He could never get enough of her scent- strawberry shampoo overlying something that was indescribably her. 

“I’ll miss you,” she said with a knowing smile.

Jaime wished he had time to question her on that smile. It hadn’t been the first time that morning he’d seen it. It suggested she was up to something, almost like when she’d presented him with a copy of the old film ‘Dornish holiday’ for his birthday with flight tickets hidden inside. But Olenna Tyrell was probably his least patient client and if he was late she would probably shout ‘you’re late boy!’ Loudly enough for the whole gym to hear again. Which really didn’t help to attract new clients for one to one sessions. Especially not serious ones rather than the women who booked in purely to ogle his arse and try to squeeze his biceps. 

Tearing himself away from a second last kiss, he strode through the utility room into the attached garage and stopped still as a statue. J LAN 1 had a parking ticket.

“Brieeeeeeeenne!!!” He shouted.

The door opened immediately, almost as if she’d been waiting there.

“I’m parked in the garage, I can’t get a ticket in the garage!” He wailed.

Brienne looked nervous, pressing her large front teeth into her lip. “I don’t know anything about that. Why don’t you have a look at it?” Brienne was many things, but a good liar she was not. She also wasn’t a prankster, so Jaime could only think this was something nice, perhaps an early gift for their first anniversary.

Jaime tore into the plastic packet with a smile and unfolded the note inside. Written in Brienne’s neat handwriting in indisputable black and white was ‘Will you marry me?’ He smiled so widely that his cheeks ached.

“Yes!!!” He shouted, lunging forward and lifting Brienne off her feet to spin around and plonk unceremoniously onto J LAN 1’s bonnet, deaf to Brienne’s cries that she was too heavy. He nuzzled in and kissed that spot on her neck that always made her make a noise that was practically a purr.

“Jaime, what are you doing?” 

“Shhhh, fantasy of mine…”

“On your car? Really?” But the admonishment that Jaime was sure was coming was broken off and replaced by a moan as he tore her dressing gown open and dropped to his knees.


End file.
